


Love you up (tie you down)

by MemeKon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Fuckbuddies, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Topping from the Bottom, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKon/pseuds/MemeKon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tie thing is spontaneous. Dylan doesn’t wake up thinking ‘hey, I’m gonna tie up my occasional hook up and costar today’.</p><p>It just happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love you up (tie you down)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfhardtorock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfhardtorock/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Свяжи меня полностью](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13725213) by [WTF_Tyler_Hoechlin_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Tyler_Hoechlin_2018/pseuds/WTF_Tyler_Hoechlin_2018)



> I wrote this to take a break from writing all my holiday exchange fics.  
> It's not betaed. Sorry for the mistakes.

The tie thing is spontaneous. Dylan doesn’t wake up thinking ‘hey, I’m gonna tie up my occasional hook up and costar today’.

It just happens.

The thing with Hoech is that he’s ridiculous in bed. He’s that guy who lights candles for his girlfriends and gets all weepy and sentimental, and wants to slow bone to Boyz II Men. Dylan ribs him for it in public, and sometimes in bed too because the way he flushes up to his ears and gets all demure, even when he’s balls deep inside him, is cute.

Hoech’s that guy that touches his partners like he can unravel the secrets of the universe by coasting his hands along their curves, like touching someone else is a treasure; he’s that guy that touches without clear intent, doesn’t know he’s maddening, doesn’t have a plan, just goes along on instinct.

Dylan tries to go along with the guy, let him do his thing and enjoy the ride, but sometimes he is too much of a mess of blue balls and teenagehood and 24/7 sexual frustration.

Sometimes he wants Hoech to stop marveling at the expanse of skin  over his collarbone and get on with the program. Wants Hoech to hurry up and fuck him, maybe pin him down, maybe hold his hips as Dylan gives actual riding a try, maybe tug at his hair while he gorges himself on his cock. 

Sometimes Dylan gets loud inside his head and antsy and anxious because he doesn’t know what the fuck is happening with his life and he wants Hoech to help him out. With his dick. And Hoech is a little helper, he’s probably on Santa’s Hall of Fame of nice boys, but he gives Dylan these looks, these beseeching, soul destroying looks when Dylan hurries him up, and Dylan feels like an asshole, because they are the type of looks people give up when they’re trusting and open and naked, and Dylan has so many walls, doesn’t know what to do with all that trust, with Hoech’s hips stuttering as their cocks slide together, and the hand on his hip, thumb caressing, and Hoech looking up at him so honest and laid bare, and his sweet good guy voice gasping out about how he’ll give whatever a try, once, if Dylan thinks he wants it, if Dylan thinks they’ll like it. He’s game.

And Dylan nods back, because he lost words at about the time Hoech fisted his dick and gave it a couple soft tugs.

He doesn’t think about it, he grabs a tie from the floor, one of the items they’ve just gotten out of, one of Hoech’s, because the last tie Dylan owned had piano keys on it and this one’s a silk thing, a delicate strip of clothing that Hoech probably didn’t buy on his own.

He lets himself tug at Hoech’s hands, and rub at the joints, at the wrists, teases him with the soft touch of the fabric, and Hoech goes dazed, eyes blown and mouth dropped open as his hips buck up and the friction makes Dylan groan.

Hoech lets himself be lead, he always does, he’s comfortable following, he’s a team player, and Dylan takes the reigns, makes Hoech raise his arms for him, nuzzles them because the hair on them is soft, the skin looks healthy and alive and glistening, kisses at palms of the hands because affection makes Hoech loose, makes him preen, and then he ties him to the headboard, with slow, lazy movements.

He lets Hoech test out his range of movement, is maybe a little ready for him to get cagey and bow out, but when he discovers all the ways he can and can’t move he melts into the bed, parts his lips and breathes through his mouth, loud, looks up at Dylan like he wants, wants so much and he doesn’t even know what, and so Dylan quirks his lips at him and gives.

He chokes himself on Hoech’s dick the way he almost never gets to, because he worries, he honestly worries Dylan will fuck his throat up and that people will get on his case about being unprofessional; he lets himself drool on it and take on the weight of his shaft, and lap at it, lets himself gag a little because he likes challenges.

Hoech is mess underneath his hands, he thrashes about and keeps catching himself trying to fuck Dylan’s face and makes apologetic noises, he trembles underneath Dylan’s palms and sweats, and he moans and calls on him all sweet and needy.

Dylan takes his time, and then he turns around, brackets Hoech’s chest with his legs and kneels there as he fingers himself, lets Hoech look at him, gives him a front row seat for the way he jabs his fingers in and tries to get the angle right, drips lube all over his chest and fucks his hand over him and takes mean pleasure on the hurt sounds that he makes, on the way he says please, over and over.

When he’s ready he straddles Hoech’s hips and smiles down at him, lets his hips bear down on him, cheeks parted and hole kissing at Hoech’s cock, gaping and wanting it inside.

Hoech looks gone, cheeks red and his entire face covered in sweat, strands of hair pasted to his forehead, mouth open and bitten red as he takes lungfuls of air, stutters on his gasping breaths.

He gets his cock inside in one motion, lets it slip in and bottom out and sits on it like a throne and feels like an uncomplicated king and thinks fuck yeah, I’m gonna drive you fucking insane, man.

He rides him fast and deep and dirty, curls in on himself and supports his weight with his hands on Hoech’s pecks, rubs his nipples harshly while he’s there, spares a few twists, a pinch or two. He looks down at Hoech and he looks blissful, lost, like he’s given up completely, and his hips feel well oiled, his movements sharp stabs that go with his thrusts, and Dylan has to kiss him.  
  
He fists himself and Hoech goes wild, asks for something, says yes, and please, and Dylan, and bucks up hard enough that Dylan has to hold onto him so he won’t fall, has to gasp on the way his dick goes deep, where it makes him feel so full, and before he knows it he’s coming, all messy, thick ropes, like brands on Hoech’s chest, all dirty on his skin, dripping, and warm, and Hoech goes still for a second, opens up his mouth on a soundless o, and Dylan knows he’s coming, can feel his cock twitch as his ass clenches around it, milks him for his come, for every drop of it.  
  
He sits there, cooling off, coming down from the sex high for a while, just breathing deep and full with Hoech’s softening dick still inside him, observes Hoech going through the same.   
  
He lets Hoech’s dick slip out of him and as he feels the come leak out of him he moves forward to untie him and watches as he flexes his hands, moves his arms around, and then wraps Dylan up, tugs him down softly so he can kiss him the way he likes, soft and languid and like they have all the time they really don’t, Dylan lets himself be lead now because it makes Hoech happy.

Hoech’s always touch starved and pawing in the after glow, and though Dylan can’t relate exactly, he can’t say it isn’t nice, to have Hoech’s big hands on him,  warm and thorough, and his mouth on him, pliant and still searching.

“That was good,” Hoech tells him, and his voice sounds wrecked, shot to hell, like he’s been the one choking himself on someone else’s dick.  
  
Dylan doesn’t feel up to talking yet so he just nods against Hoech’s shoulder, gets a hand on his hair and strokes it lazily as they both settle for some sleep, disgusting and sticky and sated.  


**Author's Note:**

> [Come hang out with me on Tumblr!](http://memekon.tumblr.com)  
>  (I'm taking prompts for porn, right now :D)


End file.
